Wednesday, February 29, 2012

brown bag lunch on a park bench to the world

the sun sits, an over easy egg in the sky. the sky a little brown at the edges from too much time in the skillet. the skillet of mid day, and i don't remember what i had for breakfast. the day is passing too fast, forward, but jerky, stop motion clay-mation in the hands of an amateur.

the park bench eats divots in the back of my legs with fresh edges. i keep moving them, regaining circulation. a new bench, unworn as of yet, no one has slept on it, or not enough to create a cushion. pigeons amble in the dirt and grass in search of bread crumbs, their purple green neck sheen catches the sitting sun.

a man in duct taped shoes, low top cons, brown now over a darker color, lounges under a tree. the cracks of its bark pronounced, rounding knots, limbs once. his hoodie hood pulled over his eyes, hair spills around his stubble cheek, snarled and slick, tan, blond. his fingers carry yesterday in their lines, a picture, hung on nails framed in black.

kids slide and run back around, squeals of joy & laughter trail them, round. their mothers talk in huddles, pointing fingers, each word a gesture. new life swims inside one. a dog runs on the green hill behind them, loose its leash followed close by a man. running man, in a suit, afraid he'll be late for the future if he doesn't catch up.

joggers jog, rainbows in short slick shorts and stretchy shorts, jog black rubberized paths, so not to wear out the knees. a butterfly. bird song. bees. my brown bag crinkles as i crush it, jump shot the receptacle and sit, like the sun sits, just, shining, even though the rain is coming. flowers turn their heads, in secret wisdom.

hush---

look
& listen.

My friend Mary, has challenged us at the Jam to write in repetition. While more pronounced in the opening para, i tried to weave some subtly throughout.

76 comments:

I can picture the whole scene with your word painting today Brian and feel the sun on my face and hear the sound of the paper bag as you crumple it and shoot for the bin. I'm thinking of Spring and the simple pleasures of life that bring contentment our way.

I love the picture you painted with your words...full of life and a peaceful day sitting on the bench. You know, looking out at the world, and seeing the blessings everywhere around us does indeed give one a fresh outlook on the day and can make our woes disappear, if only briefly.

oh, how I love this writing, master of observation coupled with this wonderful facility for putting words together in unexpected ways...the sun, over easy egg in the sky, and that extended metaphor;flowers turn their heads, in secret wisdom;his fingers carry yesterday in their lines, a picture, hung on nails framed in black.brilliant!

The last line of the first stanza describes my day yesterday to a tee. I have seen that man in the hoodie in many places around here, and always wonder, "what is his story?" Your poem today is like a John Singer Sargent painting :)

Wonderful description, Brian! I feel as if I was right there enjoying the park, the park bench, and spring. I enjoyed your use of repetition as well! (It is so amazingly warm here today that I could almost go out and experience a similar scene!)

ok i need a bench now... so much to like here.. the sky with brown edges from too much time in the skillet of mid day, the fingers carrying yesterday in their lines and the flowers turning their heads...i like...and in case you saw a woman running, in a suit, afraid to be late for whatever...it was i...ha..see..i need a bench..

I wish we could see some 'green on a hill here or enough to see the birds dig at the grass. We just had another snow storm to dig out from. No green here for a while yet. I love how you see your world Brian. It's sometimes surreal, sometimes rough and raw but it's all so honest in its poetical voiced truth. Lovely. :)

As I sink into your words the repetition catches and I find myself reading the words out loud to hear the experience as well as see it. But then joy of all joys as I continue on, I not only see and hear, but smell and taste and I am right there with you by the time it ends...

The sun sits, an over easy egg in the sky..love that description. I too like to sit on a park bench and observe life around me. There is so much being spoken in image and movement. There is so much imagery in this piece...Nice work

You are so GOOD Brian. I just eat up your images, all the colors and textures of jogging attire, the man in the suit chasing the future, the life swimming within one of the mothers on the playground - all of it so real and from a unique perspective - things I see but haven't thought of quite that way. WOW!

I'd get myself brown after my lunch from taking a nap on the bench 'til a cop in dark blue came along and used his stick to hit the place on the bottom of my shoe where my foot pokes through. "Let me see your ID (check) Move it along NOW!"

Dear Brian, I am back from my short brake, trying to catch up with all my favorite bloggers.;)This piece put a smile on my face and yes, I noticed the repetitions.;) It also speaks of spring to me somehow.;) I love the last two words, that is exactly what we ought to do, at all times.;)Hope you have been well dear friend,xoxo

Brian, there were moments which popped for me - your description of the green and blue of the pigeons brought back memories of Central Park. The repetition was only noticeable with the hoodie hood; other than that, I found this a pleasing, well-rounded slice of a morning. Also, the egg reference to the sun and sky, LOVED IT! Amy